


three, two, one (now fall in my arms)

by amessofgaywords



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, and totally does not have a thing for supergirl's arms, in like the thirstiest of ways, lena finds out that kara is the girl of steel, lena is a soft human who likes to be held, lena luthor is in love with kara danvers' arms, send tweet, too many softball jokes for this short a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 19:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amessofgaywords/pseuds/amessofgaywords
Summary: Lena was aware of nothing at first but warmth. A soft, comfortable, molten feeling pouring over her, carrying her, and suddenly she was going up instead of down. She realized two things then: one, her hair would look terrible when this was over, and two, Supergirl had saved her. For the second time.or the fluffy sweet season-two-based reveal fic we all needed.





	three, two, one (now fall in my arms)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this ages ago, but recent angst has made me dig it up again. featuring kara's arms, lena's obsession with kara's arms, and sleepy gays sleeping on the floor.
> 
> title from check yes, juliet by we the kings.

Lena’s best (and sometimes, her only) memory of that night is Supergirl’s arms. 

Late at night, when all the lights are off and the sounds of the city are the only ones that permeate the walls of her penthouse, she can still feel the air rushing past her, moving the hairs on her arms with its threatening promise of acceleration until crash landing. 

Lena prides herself on being a woman of science, but sometimes that trait can screw her over. Like when she's plummeting from a forty-eight story tower towards the ground, each relentless, dooming fact about falling and drop-related death spinning through her mind like she did through the air. 

And yet, there was almost something comforting about knowing the end was near. No more fighting. No more trying to clear her last name, or arguing with useless men on the board of directors about projects she’d spent months researching that they could barely begin to understand. 

And then _she_ caught her. 

Lena was aware of nothing at first but warmth. 

A soft, comfortable molten feeling pouring over her, carrying her, and suddenly she was going up instead of down. 

She realized two things then: one, her hair would look terrible when this was over, and two, Supergirl had saved her. 

For the second time. 

There was a whispered voice in her ear, one that was the personification of that lava-like feeling of safety. It was sweet and protective and beautiful, and it said “you're safe now, Ms. Luthor.”

(Lena’s interior monologue made her sound like she was very high at the time of this encounter, but she really wasn’t. She was just… very comfortable in Supergirl’s arms. Very comfortable.)

It was only a few seconds, all things considered, but when Supergirl raised them to the level of her attackers and said, “Drop something?” Lena felt as if three hours had passed. 

And then Supergirl freeze-breathed (was that the correct term?) them into unconscious oblivion and Lena was safe. 

But she never forgot the safeness, and warmth, she felt inside of those arms. 

Sometimes, when she was bored, or lonely, or having an anxiety attack about some traumatic moment from her childhood, Lena would wrap her arms around herself and try to recreate the feeling. It never worked. 

She dallied on this thought now as she sat in her new hallway, sleepy and bored, waiting for Kara. 

She was moving into a new apartment because the old one was feeling a little pretentious. So maybe the new one was a block away from Kara’s loft, but so what? Lena Luthor was allowed to own as many apartments as she wanted, wherever she wanted.

The reporter herself had come over to help Lena settle in and move furniture, but had arrived to find the CEO sitting helplessly in the hallway, trapped outside her door, blocked by a trail of boxes leading into a large, open living room. 

Kara only chuckled. 

“I know, I know!” Lena held up her hands in defeat. “But the delivery guy came before me and clearly made some mistakes.”

“All it took to break Lena Luthor was a pile of boxes.” Kara laughed, and did that cute thing where she rocked back on her heels and smiled at the ground, pushing up her glasses, and her lips looked so kissable all pursed like that, and Lena should stop that train of thought where it stood. 

“Says the woman who gets flustered making a coffee order.”

“But there are just so many choices!” Kara defends herself, before turning to face the door, still blocked by the infuriatingly unmoving boxes (yes, Lena was aware that boxes didn't move on their own, but she'd been up all night wrapping up a merger deal and she was ninety-nine percent sure she was hallucinating.)

“How do we get in?” Lena wondered out loud, stifling a yawn. She was half willing to take a prototype rocket launcher out of her labs just to get past the blockade when Kara cleared her throat. 

“I could, ah, carry you?”

“Carry me how?” Lena gave her friend a look of confusion mixed with adoration, because it was apparently all she was capable of feeling around Kara Danvers. The woman turned her into an overgrown needy kitten. 

“I mean, maybe I could step through that little hole there. And I could carry you.”

Kara said all this without looking at Lena, who was fairly sure she'd seen the reporter’s face go very, very, red. 

To be frank, Lena herself could have fairly easily stepped through the hole Kara was indicating, but a) her sleepy brain wasn't functioning well enough to come up with anything more than “help” and “Kara” and b) she didn't trust herself to not trip and fall and crush some box of expensive sheets or something. Kara carrying her was clearly the safest and most intelligent option (says the woman with lord knows how many degrees and an IQ higher than most of the people on Earth). 

“Sure. Why not.” Lena looked at her purse, looked at the door, and, with a little windup, chucked it onto the newly polished floors of her living room. 

Kara gave a little undignified snort. Lena, sensing the opportunity for flirting, flexed her arms and said “college softball,” accompanied by a wink. 

Kara blinked a couple of times (if Lena was being hopeful she'd say it was to get the image of her in a softball uniform out of her head but it was probably just confusion) and then shook her head, smiled, and said “here.”

She opened her arms, and Lena stepped into them, almost expecting one of Kara’s ridiculously warm and tight hugs, instead met with surprisingly strong arms lifting her into a bridal position. She breathed out a little “whoa” and wrapped her arms around Kara’s neck loosely. 

That's when she felt it. As Kara stood there, attempting to figure out a path through the maze of boxes, Lena felt that familiar sensation, one she'd been trying to recreate for months. The settling of warmth, followed by the calming of her brain and senses until everything was enveloped by the sight, smell, feel, of… Kara. 

_You’re in Kara’s arms, not Supergirl’s_, she reminded herself

But so much was the same. The smell, of strawberry perfume and baby powder and a little bit of campfire. The steady pulse of the woman's heart, fast but unwavering. The way Kara’s gentle hands held Lena lightly, as if afraid she might break.

The way Lena was willing to hand over control, completely. The way she felt safe, guarded, and protected. The way she knew, without a doubt, that Kara would never let her go. 

Without realizing, Kara had maneuvered them inside the apartment. The sunlight from the ceiling-high windows cast a warm, buttery glow on her face, making her look like a blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel. A hero. 

“Lena?” Kara questioned. 

“It's you, isn't it?”

Kara furrowed her eyebrows. A now-familiar crease appeared between them, and Lena longed to smooth it out with the pad of her thumb. 

She reached one hand up, from around Kara’s neck to the front of her face. She pinched the bridge of Kara’s glasses between her thumb and forefinger. She hesitated. 

Kara didn't stop her. 

Lena pulled the glasses all the way off. 

She remembered staring up into the face of Supergirl that night. A face full of not only confidence and purity, but also of compassion, so much compassion, all for others, and in that moment, for Lena. 

And now, as she looked into Kara’s eyes, she saw the same compassion loom in the blue irises. 

Kara’s lips quirked up into a small smile. “Alex is going to kill me.”

Her arm slipped, and Lena tumbled out of her solid grip and dropped onto the cashmere rug rolled up beneath her with a slight “oof.”

“Oh, Rao, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?” Kara slid onto her knees, and in a flurry of limbs, Lena grabbed her outstretched hand and yanked her down to floor beside her. 

“I'm fine. But you should learn not to drop people.” Lena teased. 

“I thought I was good at carrying helpless citizens!” Kara whined in the petulant voice of a child. Lena chuckled.

“I’d bet you are. But I’m a little less than helpless.” She laid her palm down, faceup.  
After a moment, she felt Kara’s warm, smooth skin slide into hers. 

“I'm not going to tell anyone, you know.”

She felt, rather than saw, Kara’s smile. “I know. I trust you.”

“You'd be the first,” Lena sighed. 

Kara's hand squeezed her’s tighter. No words, but a silent message of support and (if she was being completely delusional) love. 

They laid there, hands interlocked, staring up into the high ceilings of Lena’s new place for a moment, until Kara broke the peace by saying, “you know there's, like, a form to fill out, right? ‘I acknowledge that Supergirl’s secret identity is privileged information’ or something like that.”

Lena burst out into loud, gleeful laughter. Kara joined her soon after, and Lena felt it again. The warmth, the safety, and the emotion she hadn't thought she had the capability to feel. 

The happiness, spilling out of Kara like sunbeams. Lena absorbed it like a sponge. 

That was Supergirl’s real power, she thought as she caught Kara's eye and started laughing again. 

Anyone could be happy if Kara was there beside them. 

She couldn’t remember falling asleep, but she woke up a few hours later, judging by the sun’s position in the sky, wrapped in Kara’s arms (strong, strong arms) and completely content. The blonde herself was still snoring a little, and making cute little flexing motions with her fingers where they rested against Lena’s stomach.

Lena giggled when she felt air puffed against the back of her neck, and then the tell-tale sounds of Kara waking up. “Morning,” she said, doing her best to stretch in Kara’s tight grip. “Or should I say, afternoon.”

“Don’t be fresh,” Kara grumbled, pulling her arms away (Lena resisted a needy whine at the feel of them retreating). “I was having a really good dream.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Kara grinned slyly. “You playing softball.”

Lena swatted at her arm. “Don’t stereotype.”

“You did this to yourself, Lena. You only have yourself to blame.”

Lena’s resounding laugh echoed through the quiet apartment, and she slipped back into Kara’s arms, feeling finally at peace, home again.

“Maybe one day L-Corp and the DEO should have a softball tournament. You know, for science.” Kara suggested, still laughing.

“Yeah. For science.” Lena yawned, and when she pulled back, was met with Kara’s insistent lips, surprising but welcome.

Scratch that. Home wasn’t Kara’s arms. Home was Kara’s kiss, her embrace, and her smile against Lena’s mouth, reminding her she had a place to call home after all.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me @amessofgaywords on twitter.


End file.
